Apprentice and Master
by SlaveToSeverus
Summary: A fiery confrontation leads to correction. One Shot. PWP. Just some fun with my favourite characters.


Hermione blew an errant curl from her cheek and scribbled a subdued comment to her third years potion's essay. It really was a horrid and poorly thought out essay, but even still Hermione couldn't bring herself to leave quite as scathing a comment as was probably deserved.

The stack of essays to her left seemed daunting at this point, if every essay was written just the same that is. Even after 2 years as an apprentice Hermione still could never understand how Severus flew through his marking as quickly as he did.

A blush stole across Hermione's cheeks. The thought of her dour Potion's Master, even in the most innocuous sense, had in the past few months had a visibly exciting effect on her. As much as she vehemently denied her attraction in her own head, her body always seemed to have other ideas.

After a tense first year of awkward formality and tiptoeing around one another the two had developed a comfortable routine. Most nights were spent brewing, where occasionally his hand would press against her back as he gazed into her cauldron, and when they weren't it was spent on the couches in their joined common area. They read quietly, they debated heatedly, mostly about what he deemed to be appropriate attire, and every once in a while, they talked. His deep voice resonated through her, excited her, as he discussed whatever came to mind.

This was not to say the man was a saint. He was the same snarky, cruel, demeaning git he'd always been, but now she had a bit more leeway in letting him know it. His teeth were still yellow and crooked, his nose too big, his skin too pale, and his hair, regardless of the showers she could hear him take every morning, was always lank and greasy looking. Despite his obvious flaws in character and physical appearance, Hermione still found herself desperate to know what those teeth would feel like sinking into the flesh of her lower lip.

With a frustrated sigh, Hermione kicked her bare feet up on the small coffee table, snuggling back into the plush leather sofa. It was useless thinking about it, she thought, brow furrowed as she stared unseeingly to the essay in her hands. He had made no indication of any sort of interest in her. Perhaps he was amicable, some would say friendly with her as time went on, but it seemed to go no deeper than that of a Master and apprentice.

A scowling Snape entered their common area as though conjured from her tortured thoughts, immediately going to the supply of fire whiskey hidden in the mahogany cabinet. He immediately downed a shot and poured another. So, it was going to be one of those nights, she thought with an eyeroll.

"How many times have I told you to keep your bloody feet off the table?" he sneered, twirling the amber liquid in annoyance. His eyes were heated, as fiery as the liquid in his glass and with more bite. The drink was downed once more and another fill to his glass was made.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but made no move to adjust her position, "About as many times as I've told you, it's just as much my table as yours, and I'll put my feet where I please."

His scowl deepened as he picked up an essay she had just finished marking, "Good attempt? Dig deeper into your research? Merlin's balls Granger you're meant to correct them not coddle them. What is this rubbish?"

Hermione flushed scarlet and yanked the essay from him, "It's called _constructive_ criticism. Rather than write a scathing _unhelpful_ comment, I've left notes so they know where they can improve."

He snorted into his glass and continued to flip through her work, "You have them working on remedial potions on top of it all. Merlin help the little brats who are left with you after I retire."

Hermione felt her eyes sting, that was low. There was never any apprentice who worked as hard as she did with so little reward. Never did he thank her, never did he offer her congratulations, never did he bloody so much as give her a fucking pat on the back for everything that she did for him.

He flung the essay back down, "Don't mollycoddle them or they'll be just as inept at Potions as your dunderheaded friends."

She stacked her work together neatly, preparing her things to leave to her room. He certainly wasn't going to be the beguiling company she had come to know over the past year and she certainly wasn't going to sit around and play the punching-bag. She knew when to walk away from him and she was on the edge with her pent-up frustration, sexual and otherwise.

She waved her wand and the papers, ink and quill floated to her rooms. "If that's all Severus.."

"Master Snape," he cut her off curtly.

Her cheeks flushed in anger, "So we're reverting back to formalities? What the hell's got your knickers in a twist?"

His eyes darkened dangerously, "Watch your tongue Miss. Granger or I'll spell it to the roof of your mouth. I'm sure you and your little friends are familiar with that spell."

She rose and crossed her arms and for the briefest moment she thought he glanced to the neckline of her dress but his eyes quickly looked down to his glass, "You seem to be harping on them rather a bit this evening."

He scowled again, glaring at the glass in his hand as if it had personally offended him, "Minerva has _requested_ that I acquiesce to Potter's incessant nagging for a meeting."

Hermione held back a smirk, "So, in other words you have no choice."

"This is all because of you!" His eyes rose sharply to hers, the intensity of his gaze made her look away in embarrassment.

"Me?" Hermione did her best to sound innocent, indignant even, but it sounded false even to her own ears.

He took several steps closer, nearly toe to toe with her, "Don't play stupid, its unbecoming. I know you told her that I was ignoring him, and without your intervening I could have continued to do so for the rest of whatever pitiful life I have." His eyes were dark, slightly glazed from the drink as her eyes snapped to his, "I've told you to stay out of it. I told you I have nothing to say to that idiot boy."

Hermione felt her anger rise, "He's not an idiot, he's a boy in need of closure, that's all Severus."

"Master Snape," he spat angrily, she could feel the rage emanating from him, fueling her own.

"Well _Master_ Snape, if you've got nothing else _professional_ to discuss...," she said with a fierce glare.

He caught her wrist just as she was about to turn and tugged the sleeve of her dress lightly, "How many bloody times have I told you not to wear this dress?"

"There's nothing _wrong_ with this dress, Sir," She shot back, yanking the sleeve from his grip. There really was nothing wrong with it. The dress fell to her mid-thigh, a slight flare, it was 3 quarter sleeved and barely showed any cleavage, although in all fairness it did cling to her petite figure snugly.

"It's improper and obscene to be dressed like this in the classroom," he said, his grip tightening on her wrist.

"Well seeing as we're not _in_ the classroom I don't see the problem," she shot back, yanking her wrist from his grasp.

His cheeks flushed, rosy from the drink, from his fury, "I don't appreciate you prancing about our common area tarted up like a cheap date. I can visit Knockturn Alley for such thrills."

Hermione paled in anger, a ferocity so powerful that Severus at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed, "Tarted up?" Her mind reeled, so infuriated, how could he even DARE to say such a horrid thing. "Fine, Sir," she said coolly. "FINE! You win!" Without another thought, Hermione pulled the hemline of her dress above her head and shoved it into his hands.

There was a heartbeat or several where neither moved. Hermione stood, in her bra and knickers, flushed with anger, her chest heaving slightly as the adrenaline ran through her veins. Snape held the dress in a clenched fist, nostrils flared, eyes hard as steel, not daring to look down, eyes focused intently on hers.

"Fine, Miss. Granger," he said softly. It was quiet, a tone she had heard so many times before, the calm before the storm that is Severus Snape, that sent a tremor through her spine. Quick as a flash he griped her hair and dragged her to his desk in the corner of the room. He bent her over, murmuring a spell that clasped her hand together above her head and tethered them to the desk.

"If you want to throw a tantrum and act like a brat then I'll punish you like one," he hissed in her ear as he yanked her panties up between the cleft of her cheeks.

Hermione yelped as the cloth dug into her clit, viciously providing an intense friction as the first smack landed across her exposed cheek. Before a gasp of pain, or word of protest was even passed her lips, a second and third blow followed, each landing on a pale section of her cheek before blossoming with a fiery handprint. All thoughts of pushing him away disappeared with the reverberating pleasure of each smack licking against her core.

The strikes didn't stop or slow and soon they were overlapping, the pain more intense with each overlay. Hermione grit her teeth, desperate not to make a sound, her anger and confusion at her enjoyment making her defiant. But, when his hand landed dead center, the pain echoing a vibration to her over sensitive and over stimulated clit, Hermione let out a soft moan. A tiny gasp of pleasure that halted his barrage.

Each figure paused, Hermione holding her breath, hoping he didn't hear the neediness in her mewl, and Severus, chest heaving with uncontrolled adrenaline. A hand trailed down one cheek lightly before reaching the apex of her thighs. He rubbed his fingers along the damp spot of her panties, his breath hitching.

The thin fabric was yanked down instantly, torn from her throbbing core with a surprised yelp and whimper. Hermione's head swam, her vision blurred, as his fingers trailed across her bare flesh. It was too much, the enflamed passion just moments before and now this light gentle teasing across her most sensitive area all while she was still bound. A groan was torn from her throat, "Severus!"

He leaned over her body, the stiffness she had inspired in him grinding against her backside, wrenching another moan from her. Oh God, it was even more erotic than she could have ever imagined. "Master Snape, Miss. Granger."

She glared and felt the heat rising in her cheeks once more before she felt the slight chuckle against her back. He was teasing her! She pushed back and rubbed against his hard on more forcefully. He hissed and pulled away, "Hermione..."

"Oh no you don't!" With a quick bout of wandless magic, Hermione untethered herself from the desk and turned around, looking up into his guarded eyes, "You are not leaving me like this."

She pulled his lips down onto hers and moaned in relief. He immediately responded, a hand fisting her curls and another pulling her closer, grinding against her nearly as desperately as she felt. More, she needed more. Without daring to break the kiss, lest she break whatever spell she had over him at the moment, she started to work the buttons of his coat.

The kiss was intoxicating, making it nearly impossible to think, it fumbled her fingers as she tugged open his pants. He was more than ready when she wrapped her hand around him, squeezing and stroking his silken shaft.

The sound of his voice, growling in pleasure against her lips, sent another wave of pleasure to her over stimulated senses. Then he was rubbing against her lips, bumping his engorged head against her clit, the bundle of nerves nearly crying out themselves.

He pulled his lips from hers and looked down at her, looking for her permission as he lined up against her opening. Without a word Hermione gripped his hips and pulled him into her, a synchronized groan echoed through the room.

His lips were back to hers, nipping her lower lip as his hips snapped a quick rhythm against her. The sound of flesh on flesh, groans and gasps, the desk scrapping against the floor with the power of each thrust filled the room.

Severus leaned closer to her, his pelvis rubbing against her now. Hermione cried out, dragging her nails down his back, a desperate clawing to pull him closer, harder, faster. It was more intense than she could have imagined, months of pent up desire finally consummated in a rough, hard fucking.

"Fuck... Hermione... I cant..." His words came out in erratic bursts.

He reached a hand between them and stroked her quickly. With a muffled scream into his shoulder, Hermione came, the pleasure bursting from her in a release more powerful than she had ever experienced. It rocked her, contracted every muscle, and vaguely she heard Severus grunt and pump spastically into her, filling her with warmth.

She collapsed back against the desk, panting as her heart raced, slowly regaining a normal pace, as Severus lay awkwardly on her, his own chest beating a frantic rhythm. A moment later he pushed up, but before he could go far, she pulled him in for a kiss.

Where the first kiss was passionate, hard, and desperate, this one was slow, meaningful, and lazy with post orgasmic bliss.

"I think I may need plenty more lessons like this Master Snape," Hermione said with a teasing smile.

His eyes searched hers for a moment, "I think that can be arranged Miss. Granger."


End file.
